Harry Potter and the Penitent Warrior
by reddog24485
Summary: In the summer after Harry's Second Year, he meets a man with a dark past. A man who is not quite what he seems. A man who will inadvertently change the very course of Harry's life. Not a Gary Stu or SI. Cannon Couples. M to be safe. No bashing!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters. They are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. This is a work of Fan Fiction, and is not meant to make a profit.**

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 **(A.N) I am an American, worse! I'm a Southern American, That's never left the Southern United States. So, British Slang is a Foreign Language to me. That being said, I will try to keep any Americanisms from non American Characters down to a minimal. But some are bound to slip through. Sorry in advance.**

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 **Harry Potter and the Penitent Warrior; Prologue.**

Everyone has a Turning Point in life. A moment in time where their life course is inexplicably altered. This can be meeting one's Soul Mate, or getting excepted into a prestigious school. Sometimes a person can even have more than one Turning Point, indeed they can have several. As in the case of one Harry Potter. Who's life was full of Turning points.

Harry's first Turning Point actually happened before he was even born. When a See'er made her _first_ true prophesy. Which would set off a chain of events that would soon leave a very young Harry, orphaned.

But if you were to ask Harry which Turning Point in his life stood out to him most. He would tell you it was the summer before his Third Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Summer he met an American by the name of Johnathon Corbin. Of course what he didn't know then was there was far more to John Corbin, than meets the eye.

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 **(A.N) And thus the stage for our story is set. I want to warn you guys, I'm writing this without Internet, so sadly it will not have the level of detail that I like to put into my story when it comes to Real Locations, simply because I can not do the Research that I normally would. Hopefully, this will be fixed before long. But until then,** _ **Certain**_ **things maybe a little vague. Anyways, I'm off to write the next chapter. Hope you like it.**

 **P.S. Johnathon Corbin is not a Gray Stu or a Self Insert. As the only thing he and I have in common is we are both from the south. He is not even technically an O.C as I'm pretty sure who he really is, is part of the H.P Mythos. Which will be explained more in coming chapters.**

 **Reddog24485.**


	2. Number Sixteen Privet Drive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters. They are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. This is a work of Fan Fiction, and is not meant to make a profit.**

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 **Harry Potter and the Penitent Warrior: Number Sixteen Privet Drive.**

Harry Potter, who was 12, but soon to turn 13, Thank you very much! Had just finished his chores for the day. Which meant that he needed to get out of the house and avoid all contact with the Dursleys. Or they might find something else unenjoyable for him to do. The Dursleys were Harry's only living family, and they hated anything that was abnormal. Which included Harry, as Harry was a Wizard. And Wizards were as abnormal as one could get to the Dursleys.

Sneaking quietly down the stairs from where he slept in the smallest bedroom, of the house. Harry prepared to make his escape. As he was passing the door from the setting room to the kitchen, he heard his aunt's voice along with one of her 'friends' voices floating through. Doing what she did best, which was gossiping. Of course Aunt Petunia, really didn't have friends. Just people she made nice with, until time to gossip about them to someone else. Such was life on Privet Drive.

"So have you seen our new neighbor?" Asked Mrs. Marbanks, Who lived in Number Fourteen Privet Drive.

"Briefly." Answered his Aunt.

"Oh. Well, I've seen quite a bit of him." Said Mrs. Marbanks in a hushed voice.

"Really?" Asked Petunia, feigning interest.

"Oh, yes!" Said Mrs. Marbanks, sounding close to gleeful. "Just yesterday, I was minding my Rose bush. And happen to look through a crack in the fence that separates our yards, and there he was. Working out without a shirt! All sweat and muscle! I tell you, if I didn't love Mr. Marbanks. I'd take him for a test drive!"

With that statement, the two women broke out into giggles. And Harry suddenly feeling quite ill, hastened his escape.

Harry sighed as he walked the street of Privet Drive, heading to the local park. Getting sneers all the while from the residents of Privet Drive, who thought him a worthless hooligan and sponge on his Aunt and Uncle. Harry had been back from School for two days, two very Miserable days. And while his last School year had been one of the toughest and most harrowing of his young life. He found he would give anything to be back there, where he had friends. Two of the best friends he could ever ask for.

Making it to the park, he found himself a shaded spot, to spend the rest of his day. Setting alone and doing nothing, would not have been his first choice of ways to pass time. But he could do little else. Upon returning to his relatives, for that's what they were to him. Not family, just relatives. The first thing his Uncle had done was lock away all his school supplies. So now Harry could not do his home work. Plus the only way he could convince Uncle Vernon not to lock away his Owl Hedwig, was to swear not to contact his friends. So Harry was on his own this summer.

And so here he sat, and watched as people came and went. It was then that he noticed a man in a white muscle shirt and sweatpants, the man was tall at maybe 6.3 or 6.4 and muscular. His black hair was buzz cut, and he had the makings of a two day shadow. Harry recognized him as the new neighbor, who had moved into Number Sixteen Privet Drive. The one Mrs. Marbanks wanted to test drive. Harry shook himself of those thoughts, before he could get sick again. He saw the man was practicing some kind of martial arts.

Moving on, Harry started looking around again, but soon found himself lost in his thoughts of the previous year. It was the second time in two years that Voldemort, (the dark wizard who had murder his parents.) had come close to regaining a body. But this time was far more scarier than the first. As this time, innocent students had been dragged into it. None the least of which being his best mate's little sister, Ginny. He wished there had been more he could have done.

Harry, blamed himself for what she had gone through. While it was true that it had not been he who had slipped her that cursed diary. He still felt he should have recognized something was amiss. Despite the fact that Ron had described Ginny as out going. The Ginny of last year had been anything but. The problem was that Ginny had been quite taken with him, and it had made him uncomfortable around her. So once they had arrived at Hogwarts, Harry had for the most part, put her out of his mind. Now he wished he hadn't. So lost in his own thoughts he was, that Harry hadn't noticed when someone had sat down in the shade near him. At least until said person said something too him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that." Said Harry as he looked over, seeing that it was the man from earlier. Who was now setting in the shade beside him, drinking a bottle of water. Harry spotted a wired looking birth mark on the man's left forearm.

"I asked why the long face?" Said the man with a half smile. "Shouldn't a Boy your age be off somewhere with his friends getting into some kind of trouble. Not setting alone, looking as if he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders."

Harry noted that the man was American, but he spoke with a bit of an odd accent. Still if he was speaking to him, then the neighbors must not have told him about that no good Harry Potter yet.

"I don't really have any friends here." Said Harry, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. The first rule of a quiet life at the Dursleys was to not ask questions. The second was to keep privet matters privet.

The man raised an eyebrow at the statement. "The famous Harry Potter, not have friends? That's hard to believe."

Harry's head turned so quick it was a miracle he didn't get whiplash. The man let out a chuckle as he tapped a spot on his forehead, where Harry's scar would be.

"Even in the States, you're very well known, Mr. Potter." Said the man.

"You're a wiz-" Harry started in surprise, only to be shushed. As the man motioned at the other inhabitants of the park.

"Yep." He said in way of answer. Before extending his hand. "Johnathon Corbin."

"Harry Potter." Said Harry shaking the man's hand.

"You look like you gotta lot of questions." Said the man, Johnathon. "Tell you what. Why don't we head back to my house, I'll get us some drinks and you can ask them. And then maybe you'll answer my question of why the long face."

"Okay." Said Harry. Common sense told him, not to go alone into the house of a man you know nothing about. But at the same time, Harry couldn't stop himself. The thought of another wizard on Privet Drive. It almost seemed too good to be true. One of the things Harry hated most about coming home for the summer, was having no one to talk to about his life, at Hogwarts. As Privet Drive was as far removed from the Wizarding World as one could get. "Lead the way."

Walking into Johnathon's house was not what Harry was expecting. While not an expert of Wizarding house holds. His experiences at Hogwarts, the Burrow, and Diagon Alley. Had shown him that Wizards tended to live an almost medieval life style, with very few modern appliances. As magic tended to cause electronics to act wonky. But Johnathon's house was almost muggle in looks, with a Big Screen Telly, gaming systems, large Stereo, and a laser disk player. Soon they were setting in the setting room with an Ice cold soda each.(Something else Harry wouldn't have expected to find in a wizards home.)

"Go ahead and ask." Said Johnathon, whit an indulgent smile.

"You're a Wizard?" Harry asked quickly.

"Yep." Said Johnathon. "Though not from around these parts, Obviously. I went to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Though you'll be in Hogwarts I expect."

"Yes, sir." Said Harry with a nod.

"Call me, John. Please." He said with a smile. "I don't stand much on formality. So I doubt that was your only question."

"What are you doing in Surrey? Much less Privet Drive?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm what you might call, a Magical Historian and Archeologist." Said Johnathon. "Privet Drive seemed a nice suburb, until I moved in and met some of the locals."

"So you're like a Curse Breaker." Said Harry, thinking of Bill Weasley, who was his best mate, Ron's oldest brother.

"Not really." He said, before going on to explain. "You see Curse Breakers, are exactly that. People who break curses for a living. They in turn hire them selves out to Archeologist, and treasure hunters who need their help in getting into magically sealed tombs. Gringotts for example hires Curse Breakers, but don't get me started on those Goblins!"

Harry didn't really have any inborn predigests, but knew that the Wizarding World was full of it. Still he felt compelled to ask. "Don't like Goblins?"

Johnathon sighed, before explaining. "You have to understand, Harry. It's not the Goblins themselves that I don't like. But they tend to be little better than Grave Robbers. They care nothing for the history of the tomb they are breaking into. They only care how much gold it will net them. Say what you will about me, but at least when I break into a tomb. I'm usually only going in for one item. That is either dangerous and needs to be kept safe, or important to history and needs to be shared. It is not the money or gold that is important to me, or even the fame."

Harry nodded his head. He could understand that. Secretly he thought to himself that if Professor Binns talked with the kind of passion that Johnathon just did, than he might not put so many people to sleep. Taking another look around the setting room, his thoughts from earlier sprang to mind.

"How are you able to have so many electronics? Most Wizard houses don't." Asked Harry.

"Yeah, well common sense isn't very common in wizard society." Grumbled Johnathon, must having seen the questioning look on Harry's face, he elaborated. "What you have to understand Harry is that most Wizards look at magic as a way of life. They use it for every little thing. Like summoning a pair of reading glasses, when they could easily just reach over and grab them. They use magic so much that it permeates the very air of the houses they live in."

Harry nodded, he had seen as much at the Burrow.

"Where as I look at magic as nothing more than a tool. That is to be used, but not overly relied upon. Which is why, I'm able to have things like my impressive Laser Disk collection." Johnathon continued. "If you were to strip all wizards of their magic, most would not know how to survive."

"I'm going to go get another drink. You want one?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Sure." Said Harry. As he left for the kitchen, Harry took a closer look at the decorations of the house. One of the first things he noticed was there were hardly any pictures, magical or otherwise. How ever he did have a few houseplants, and on one wall a rather impressive display of medieval weapons. Which Harry thought fit with the whole archeologist historian thing.

Getting up to take a closer look, he saw that the wall was adorn with spears, shields, and battle axes. Surrounding a beautiful sword on a rack. The sword was a fair bit larger than the Sword of Gryffindor. A hand in a half sword, if he wasn't mistaken. The Sword was black in color, from blade to pommel. Except for in the center of its curved hilt, where a blood red ruby, was encased. Harry could swear he felt something sad from this sword, but couldn't tell you what it was.

"Ah." Said Johnathon's voice from behind him. "I see you found my collection."

Walking up beside him, he handed Harry a soda before motioning to the sword. "This sword, much like it's original wielder, has had a long and tragic history."

"How so?" Asked Harry, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, legend says that it was forged on the island of Avalon. On the orders of a powerful dark witch. Who then gave it to her son, to complete and evil task." Said Johnathon, his eyes looking like they were somewhere else.

"What task?" Asked Harry.

"To slay a King." Answered Johnathon. Before shaking himself out of his musings. "So why the interest in swords? You ever use one before, Harry?"

"Once, last year." Answered Harry.

Johnathon raised an eyebrow at him. "Tell me about it."

An so Harry explained about his previous year. About the Chamber of Secrets, the Diary, facing the Basilisk, Tom Riddle, and Ginny. John sat quietly during the who tale, not saying a word, just nodding here and there. When Harry was done, Johnathon sat back with a whistle.

"You should be proud of yourself, Harry." Said Johnathon looking him in the eyes. "Few grown Wizards could have faced what you did, and still come out on top."

"Yeah." Said Harry sounding more miserable than pleased. "I still feel like it's my fault though. If the Weasleys weren't close to me-"

Whatever Harry might have said, it was lost when Johnathon interrupted him. "Harry, you can't control, what someone does or why they do it. What Malfoy did, was his own Choice. And one day he'll pay the price for that. Besides, does she blame you?"

"I don't know." Said Harry uncertainly. "I haven't really talked to her, since it happened."

"You should. Could be she's blaming herself. Might help her to know that you don't hold her responsible." Said Johnathon, before his face lighted up. "In the mean time, you slew the monster and saved the princess. Take your victories where you can get them, Ser. Knight."

"I'm no Knight." Mumbled Harry.

"Oh?" Asked Johnathon, with an arched Eyebrow. "Did you or did you not slay a monster... With a sword?"

"Well, yeah, but it was really just luck-"

"And did you not risk life and limb to save the damsel in distress?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then from this day forward you are Ser. Harry the Pessimist." By this point he had adopted a fake British accent that was so bad it made Harry laugh.

"Now arise and take your up sword Ser. Harry." Harry was in stitches now, as Johnathon had conjured a plunger out of thin air and tapped him on his shoulders with it. Once he got himself back under control, Harry looked over at the clock and saw that it was getting late.

"I've got to get back home." Said Harry with a sigh. For the first time in living memory, he had been having fun in Privet Drive. It made him really not want to go back to Number Twelve.

Johnathon looked at his wrist watch, once again giving Harry a view of that strange birth mark. "I reckon it is getting kind of late. Don't be a stranger, Ser. Harry."

"I won't, Ser. John." Said Harry with a smirk, while shaking Johnathon's hand. Before he suddenly remembered something. "Oh, yeah! You might not want to work out in your back yard anymore."

"Why's that?" Johnathon asked bewildered.

"Mrs. Marbanks has been spying on you." Said Harry with a shudder. "I think she's quite taken with you."

"Mrs. Marbanks?" He asked with a look of Horror. "That lady, who looks like a female Jubba the Hut?"

"Jubba the who?" Asked Harry. Only to see the look of Horror on Johnathon's face deepen.

"You've never seen Star Wars?!" He asked scandalized. "It's only the greatest story ever told! That's it! You're coming back over here tomorrow. Luckily for you, I've got the trilogy on Laser Disk."

As Harry left Number Sixteen, Johnathon could still be herd mumbling about having never seen Star Wars.

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Johnathon Corbin sat in his living room wondering about the past two days. When he had picked Privet Drive to move too, he had done so because it seemed a good place to go unnoticed by the Wizarding World at large. Which was fine with him, as unnoticed was what he like to be most. But then two days ago he had met Harry Potter, who was far from what Johnathon would have expected. He wasn't spoiled or snobby or full of himself. To the contrary, he actually seemed to be a really good kid... if maybe a bit downtrodden.

As he got to know the boy over the next few days he began to suspect why that might be. It wasn't anything the boy had said, but more of what he didn't say. Whenever the subject of his family was brought up, he would often just say they didn't get along well and change the subject. Add that to how he seemed to not like going home, and it began to paint a picture that Johnathon didn't like.

If you asked anyone who had met Johnathon to describe him. They would tell you he was a nice man, who was studious and had a love of History. But if you ask Johnathon to describe himself, he would do so using one word... villain.

But even villains have lows they won't cross. Maybe it was his own dark beginnings, but for him that low was mistreating kids. Children were meant to be cherished, not abused! He had come to Great Britain seeking a means to an end. Not to get involved in a boy's life, but like it or not he was involved now. Johnathon knew who had placed Harry with his Aunt and Uncle, and now he needed to find out why. Confronting Albus Dumbledore was not something he ever wanted to do.

But as he sat rubbing the mark of his arm, the mark that had plagued him for nearly as long as he could remember. He knew that he was going to do it, for Harry and maybe just maybe, for himself. He would do this one thing right!

Johnathon got up and walked into his basement and turned on his light. Walking to the brick wall on the far left he spotted what he was looking for. A long crack in the mortar of the bricks. Pulling out his wand, he placed it at the top of the crack and began to trace down with it. When reaching the bottom the crack began to glow and the bricks started to shift and change.

So where the wall once stood was, was an archway and stairs leading down. Following the stairs down, he came to a room with three doors. Picking the one in the middle, he entered the room where he kept all the dangerous artifacts he unearthed. Near the end, in a warded display case was a pendent known as the Eye of Odin. Created by a group of mages in the late middle ages. The pendent increased ones own power exponentially. But prolonged use had a very dark side effect.

Still if he was going to confront a man some seem to think was Merlin reincarnate, then it would do well to have some insurance. Placing it in his pocket, he left to go have a chat with an old man.

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 **(A.N) Sorry for the short chapter. They will get progressively longer. I wonder if anybody has guessed Johnathon Corbin's true identity, and dark past? I left you a big clue. Who is he? What does he want? And how will it effect Harry's life? All things that will be answered in coming chapters.**

 **Review and tell me what you think.**

 **Reddog24485.**


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